Love you, love you not
by darkangledragonlover
Summary: “You will never make me leave,” Tom says icily, “Let me show you something beautiful.”And he whispers “Crucio.” Slash HPTRLV READ INSIDE FOR MORE WARNINGS
1. Chapter 1

Title: Love you, Love you not.

Summary: "Let me show u something beautiful." He whispers. Slash HP/TRLV

Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings if ya don't know what that means, swearing, violence in, Evil! Slytherin! Harry! Self harm, a lot of agast!

Pairings: HP/TRLV

Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!

A/N: Ok, this maybe a little confusing… in Hp book number 2 instead of Ginny getting tom riddles dairy Harry gets it, and then Dumbledore saves Harry and destroys the dairy. Umm yea so please tell me what you think!

Chapter One:

His back was sore, and he ached all over...oh, the cold, it seeped right through to his bones, his very blood seemed frozen. He opened his eyes a crack...he could see his eyelashes, barely...weak pale things, they were...

Oh, but the man in front of him looked as though he were underwater...but that was because his own eyes were filled with tears...and he could barely see him, his love, his heart, his angel and his guardian... .the only one to have ever touched him like that, or said those words.

Tom was content to just leave him there, like that, but Harry didn't want him to...how could he, after all that had happened?

"Please," Harry begged, he pleaded, surprised at the weakness of his voice, but then surprised that he could speak at all...by all rights, Tom shouldn't have even been able to hear- but the bond that they shared, oh, it knows no boundaries.

Tom knelt beside him and tentatively touched his face, then held Harry's trembling hand in his. The tears were falling...

And then Tom clutched at Harry's hand so hard that his nails pierced the-boy-who-lived skin, and he stood stiffly and left.

"Don't, no.." he wept, but Tom didn't return, just stood in the shadows. Harry's voice was a hook in Tom's heart, and Harry knew it tugged at him, ripping and shredding the threads and strings that held it together. Some believe that those who want power, they are weak...but Harry knew that Tom was stronger than anyone he had ever met before, anyone he ever would...

Tom would not turn, and it would crush Harry's soul, but he would not cry for Harry, and although Tom was not oblivious to the pain, he could withstand it. Because Tom had been string, and Harry had been weak.

Harry Potter was only twelve. And Tom Riddle was only sixteen, in a manner of speaking. And Harry did not have the power nor the knowledge, at age twelve, to fight him.

Tom had been right when he had told Harry that he would die in the Chamber of Secrets, even if he did not know why.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Love you, Love you not.

Summary: "Let me show u something beautiful." He whispers. Slash HP/TRLV

Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings if ya don't know what that means, swearing, violence in, Evil! Slytherin! Harry! Self harm, a lot of agast!

Pairings: HP/TRLV

Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!

A/N: Ok, this maybe a little confusing… in Hp book number 2 instead of Ginny getting tom riddles dairy Harry gets it, and then Dumbledore saves Harry and destroys the dairy. Umm yea so please tell me what you think!

Chapter two:

It was late autumn, Harry's favourite time of year. He was running, running through a forest in god-knows-where, and he was looking for someone. He wasn't sure who...

Oh, but yes, Harry was. A boy, crouching over something, prodding at it with his wand. He rushed over to him, feeling happy, happier than he'd ever felt in his life.

He sat beside him and embraced him, then looked up into his eyes with complete trust and then froze.

Tom eyes were blood red, and Tom seized Harry's wrists and began to pull him away. They were standing now, and it was winter, winter, cold and icy and as merciless as always. Harry was screaming at Tom, screaming and crying and writhing and Tom was only laughing at him. Tom was laughing, oh, there was no pity, no sympathy, no understanding in that laugh. Those who love are weakened by it, his voice was saying in Harry's head.

"Please, Tom, please, oh god, Tom, don't," he wept, and Harry pulled at Tom harder, but Tom didn't listen, only laughed more.

Tom flung Harry into the thorns beside the house he dragged him to. They stabbed at Harry's skin, his eyes, and ripped at Harry's clothes.

"You will die," Harry sobbed.

"I may," Tom hissed, "but you, Harry, you will die with me...for you put your soul in mine, and I put my soul in you."

And Harry screamed and screamed and screamed until his voice was hoarse, and his lungs would not obey, and Harry's blood fell onto the snow and burnt through it like acid, because it was tainted. It was Riddle's blood now, and not his own. And yet...

But it was still blood, still red and shining and dark and thick and sweet.

End of chappie 2

Please, REVIEW!


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Love you, Love you not.

Summary: "Let me show u something beautiful." He whispers. Slash HP/TRLV

Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings if ya don't know what that means, swearing, violence in, Evil! Slytherin! Harry! Self harm, a lot of agast!

Pairings: HP/TRLV

Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!

A/N: Ok, this maybe a little confusing… in Hp book number 2 instead of Ginny getting tom riddles dairy Harry gets it, and then Dumbledore saves Harry and destroys the dairy. Umm yea so please tell me what you think!

Chapter three:

"Harry!" Hermione cried, waking him up.

"What?"

"You were dreaming again. Clutching at your pillow. Are you sure you're alright?"

"What did I say?"

"You only said a single word," Hermione said, looking away.

"What did I say, Hermione?" Harry bit his lip. A trickle of blood fell down it.

"Tom." She replied.

_Sometimes when I sleep, I see him. He doesn't know I can, I think, otherwise he wouldn't let me see him._

_Because he cries. He buries his head in his arms and tears trickle silently down his cheeks. I told Hermione. She understands more than I'll ever know. She tells me they're just dreams._

_They aren't just dreams. The diary was destroyed. But he was a memory._

_Imprisoned in a diary. Until Harry Potter let him out. I was a fool to do that. It wasn't wise._

_But now his memory is not in the diary. Now it is in me. I remember you, Tom._

Top of Form

All of the dolls that were my mothers are broken. My Mother's dolls. I was given them, last year and then Vernon got to them.

Things break when they are alone. Tom is breaking. My love.

I took them out and played with them before my uncle destroyed them. I made them clothes. I even brought them to school. I play with my dolls. I never used to, not until my second year, when I met Tom. He taught me to play with dolls, and I did.

Especially marionettes. I put on puppet shows for Tom. He used to laugh coldly and say, "You're my marionette, Har. See how you dance for me?"

I danced. I danced until my feet hurt.

I had a dream like that. I was on Hermione's muggle music box instead of that little ballerina. Tom wound up the music box and I danced. Then Dumbledore came in and made him vanish. But then everyone left and I was alone in the dark. Tom had wound me up and wound me up and I was still dancing for him, even if he could not see it. I danced until I danced myself away.

You see, Tom wound me up and I danced for him, like a marionette doll. Then Dumbledore ruined the diary. But I'm still dancing. And no one hears the music.

No matter. Tom will come back and watch me dance again. He's never let me down before.

He tells me in my sleep. "Harry, it was all a mistake. I wouldn't have let you die. You would be like that for a while, but do you really think that I didn't have the power to bring you back?"

He's the most powerful Dark wizard in the world. He could if he wanted to.

Top of Form

I am not awake...I never truly am.

End of chappie 3

REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Love you, Love you not.

Summary: "Let me show u something beautiful." He whispers. Slash HP/TRLV

Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings if ya don't know what that means, swearing, violence in, Evil! Slytherin! Harry! Self harm, a lot of agast!

Pairings: HP/TRLV

Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!

A/N: Ok, this maybe a little confusing… in Hp book number 2 instead of Ginny getting tom riddles dairy Harry gets it, and then Dumbledore saves Harry and destroys the dairy. Umm yea so please tell me what you think!

Chapter four:

I stood in front of the mirror last night for an hour. I'm at the Weasley's; no one is home and I, little Harry, the-boy-who-lived, is left home again. Ron can't seem to leave me alone.

He thinks it is because Sirius is dead. How little he knows. Sirius's image haunts Remus's thoughts, not mine...my thoughts are not truly haunted, for I could never exorcise Tom.

"Are you sure you're alright, Harry?" Ron asked, his face pale, his hair vivid.

I had nodded.

Then I took a long bath.

When Hermione tries to calm herself, to cleanse herself of evil, she takes a hot bath, one that scalds

her skin. I do not want to be cleansed. I bathed in cold, in almost icy water.

Then I stepped out and let the water drain...and I wrapped the towel around myself and looked in the mirror...

My lips blue, my eyelids weak and half-shut, my long hair that I grew out, weighted down by the water, clinging to my bare shoulders.

My freckles that are on my shoulders are fading; it seems...a memory returns

to me...

"_You will have anything you want, and I will banish anything, anything at all, if I have my way."_

"_Can I banish my freckles,_

_Tom?"_

_He laughed, and I shivered, letting him hold me closer._

"_Of course, Harry dear. When you are by my side and co-ruler you will be the most beautiful man in the land. Men and women will drown themselves in the ocean for you, but you'll belong only to me..."_

I see a shape in the dark corners of the mirror.

Tom! How did you find me!

I spun around, staring, my heart beating so quickly that I fear my tiny chest will burst open and expose my tiny bleeding heart to the world.

He is no longer there. I am

relieved yet also tormented. I turned back to the mirror, pleading.

"Tom, why do you run from me? Why do you only appear in my mind? My reflection? My dreams..."

His voice, harsh as ever, resounds in my ears... _because I exist only within you, Harry, but you can let me out if you'd like..._

Again, the voices. I pulled on jeans, a red shirt to ward him away- he always preferred green- and I vanished into the room I have been given, to sleep. Which is where I am now.

It's dark. How dare he choose this night, of all nights, to not visit me?

I will wait. I will sleep myself into death if need

be.

It's a dark room, and suddenly he is in it.

A/N: MWAHAHAHHAHAHA CLIFFY

REVIEW!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Love you, Love you not.

Summary: "Let me show u something beautiful." He whispers. Slash HP/TRLV

Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings if ya don't know what that means, swearing, violence in, Evil! Slytherin! Harry! Self harm, a lot of agast!

Pairings: HP/TRLV

Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!

A/N: Ok, this maybe a little confusing… in Hp book number 2 instead of Ginny getting tom riddles dairy Harry gets it, and then Dumbledore saves Harry and destroys the dairy. Umm yea so please tell me what you think!

Chapter 5:

"You want me here now?" he taunts.

"I do."

"Then it's done."

And suddenly I am falling, falling, there is no hole in the ground, there is no ground, Tom, how could you, how, oh why, you're not with me, not at all, you said you would be...

His voice sneers in my ears, and my head, and all around me, ringing, silver bells off in the distance, "You are never alone...I am always with you, whether you want me or not."

Suddenly my passage is halted-

I'm a marionette again. He's got the strings, I know it- but I cannot look up and see him, I cannot move of my own will. My eyes are glassy, and I feel light. My wooden figure dances and skips and whirls across the stage...

Tom- I love you- I hate you- how – why- how could you- but every word is caught up in my wooden throat.

Finally my mouth opens, to scream, I think, but it's him speaking, through my mouth, in my voice, the words he wants me to say but never will.

"_Tom, I hate you. Leave me alone. You're evil; no one will ever hold you. Leave me."_

That's not truth, but he doesn't want to hear it- he throws me threw the air and my strings snap. I'm no longer his marionette.

"You will never make me leave," he says icily, "Let me show you something beautiful."

And he whispers- "Crucio."

And my mind is screaming and I 'm burning and I'm crying and sweating and cursing his name, Tom, oh, Tom, Tom...

And the fires die down and I settle into ash, and Fawkes flies out, like he did last time, but no more phoenix song- instead there is a violin, a violin played by a wretched child who has not put enough rosin on the bow. It cannot sound a pretty thing, it only squeaks and Tom is laughing and crying and I am sobbing his name again...

"Harry! Wake up, sweetheart, it's only a dream!" Mrs Wesley yells, and hugs me. Belatedly I realise I have tears on my cheeks. When she leaves I get ready to sleep again...not before I've seen that my sweater is green.

Harry danced, his eyes glazed over

Strings attached to arms and legs

Promise me you will behold him

And will never look away

Riddle watched, his eyes aglow

As Harry fell into the icy snow

His blood, his blood of purest red

Fell like a ribbon from Harry's head

Your wrists held back by rusty chains

You must bear witness to their pain

Tom locks his pain up inside

Harry's pain he cannot hide

Although Harry curses through bleeding lips

And scratches with bloody fingertips

Harry cannot hope to contain his rage

While Tom's, contained inside a cage

And when Tom's laughter dies away

And Harry's screams begin to fade

And shackles drop from your throbbing hands

You touch your hair- the dripping strands,

You feel hollow and cold inside

You cannot bear it, you must cry,

All of this you can't abide,

You feel tainted within your mind.

No, none of this will you abide,

You feel tainted within your mind.

_The pages torn out by bloody hands and stuffed in a bottle, thrown to the seas of Harry's mind...here is Harry's second diary._

Dearest fucking diary,

Nobody ever would think that little Harry Potter would ever write in a diary, not after Tom. But if Tom's not around anymore, what is there to fear?

I used to have a diary. My first diary. This is my second, and probably not my last. You see, diary, I poured half of my soul into my first diary. I shall now pour the rest of it into this one.

For safekeeping. Not to keep it safe from anyone else, but to keep them safe from it.

Tom was my friend. My betrayer. My poison. The thing keeping me alive and slowly killing me. No one could ever understand. He used to possess me. And that is true in more ways than anyone could ever know. I was his possession.

Tom used to talk about my blood. My pure blood.

"_Surely my blood is not different from yours, Tom?"_

"_Oh, it's much different, Harry." He took a small knife from his sleeve and cut himself._

"_It seems the same as yours, but not all if it is magical, it's diluted. But yours-' here he cut the boy's hand. He gasped, but more of surprise than pain, for Harry felt more numb when he was with Tom. _

"_Your blood is full of old magic. I can see it. Feel it." Tom held Harry's palm up to his mouth and licked it, like a cat licking a wound._

"_I can taste it. It's as potent as serpent's venom." He let go of Harry's hand gently. Harry cradled it, and look down at his hand. Harry was magical. Special. Different. Pure._

"_It's pure. Like you."_

I once dreamed that he cut me, told me about my blood, pure blood. I woke up, startled; then I crept to Hermione's trunk as if in a trance and took out one of her razors.

Not one of the ones she uses. Tom says her blood is dirty- I can't let it taint mine.

But a razor, a sharp, silver one; Tom always liked silver. I sneaked into my bed and shut all the curtains, and whispered, "Lumos," to my wand.

It lit up, and I carefully took the razor and slit my arm, just to see my blood. I gasped at the sight of it.

_Special. Different. Pure._

I washed the razor and put it back with Hermione's things. I know she doesn't use them often, but sometimes she needs to.

I never touched a razor again, and here I am, fifteen, still having never touched one. Tom's hold on me disappeared, or at least became more subtle, when the diary was ruined. I never purposely looked at my blood again. I was afraid that I might become like him, thinking my blood is any different or better than someone else's.

But every once in a while I get a paper cut and I wonder...

**xxx**

Top of Form

"Harry?" Hermione asked cautiously. Harry was sitting alone on the floor of the room, quiet. Everyone else was downstairs, listening to the Order, but Hermione felt as though Harry could not have fit in, even if he had wanted to.

"Yes?" came Harry's voice, small and timid. Hermione shuddered.

Because Harry only sounded like this when he talked to Tom Riddle in his sleep.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, shutting the door behind her softly and creeping up beside him. "You've been very distant lately."

Harry did not reply for a moment. Then he turned to look at Hermione with hollow, hollow eyes. "What's the different between your blood and my blood?"

Hermione stared at him blankly, then glanced over to see where Harry's hand rested. It was a diary. One Harry had bought shortly after his third year.

Hermione had found it strange that Harry had wanted to own a diary after that, but she never pressed it. Obviously Tom was on his mind a lot- he even dreamed of him nearly every night for a few months after that, and Harry had recently begun having those dreams again. So had he recorded things he remembered about Tom in there? Hermione didn't doubt it.

"Well," Hermione said slowly, thinking. She had thought about herself during their second year, when Draco had first called her a mudblood and she had discovered its meaning. "I suppose that it means that the blood in your veins is the same blood, in a sense, that was in the veins of witches and wizards since... in essence, eternity." Hermione took a deep breath. She wasn't fond of this next part. "And my blood was never in the veins of any witch or wizard, ever."

Harry nodded. "Why do you think the Malfoy's and the Blacks care? Why them and not the Weasley's?"

Hermione tilted her head. "The Blacks, Sirius once said that they thought of themselves as almost royalty, like the Malfoy's, and most families with entirely wizarding heritage. In a sense, they are- they are of purely wizarding blood. It's an honour thing."

Harry's face was as stone. "Then have the Weasleys have no honour?"

"The Weasleys do not believe that honour can be determined by the deeds of those who came before you, or by the purity of those who came before you, because purity comes from the heart," said Hermione simply.

A thought that came to her mind she did not mention- the heart is the organ that pumps the blood. Pure blood. Dirty blood.

"It must be a Slytherin thing," said Harry half-heartened.

"No, no," said Hermione soothingly. "It's a thing that goes with certain mindsets. Pure blood is not a quality the Sorting Hat goes by- it's the other traits."

"Shouldn't all Slytherin's be pureblood, isn't that why it wanted to put me in that house because it knew of my blood that flows through my veins?" asked Harry.

Hermione laughed, although she did not really find the matter amusing. "That's like saying all Goths should be white, Har. Slytherin is an attitude- gothic is an attitude. Physical differences mean nothing."

"But they can affect your mind," added Harry.

"No, they can't; what you think can affect your mind, but thinking something completely physical separates you- that warps a mind. Tom Riddle was warped, Harry. Dwelling on him won't help you figure things out."

Harry stared at Hermione. Hermione knew it pained Harry to hear- and it pained Hermione to say. But he needed to hear it.

Harry put his face into his hands. He wasn't crying, but he was shaken. "Oh, Har," whispered Hermione, wrapping her arms around Harry. She had a younger brother, but they were as of two different worlds, and it was difficult. Her brother never had to deal with those things. Hermione felt closer to her best friend to her own father, and she often wondered about it. Was it betrayal?

No- it was only betrayal if she let herself think that. Another one of those blood things.

Finally Harry and Hermione broke away. "Hermione," Harry asked, "I'd like to see it. See that our blood is the same."

Hermione was a bit puzzled. "How?"

"Your- your razors."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. She hadn't known Harry knew.

"Oh- okay."

Hermione got them out and handed Harry one, and took out one herself. It was her favourite one- the one she used for all her worst problems, in times of dire need. And Harry was in dire need of reassurance.

"Ready?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded, tight-lipped.

They cut a slit on their arms. Their blood flowed out, calmly, red, bright red.

Hermione held her arm up next to Harry's.

"Is it really so different?" Hermione asked. Harry stared, from his blood to Hermione's.

"No," he whispered, voice hoarse. "It's not at all."

They sat in silence for a moment, before taking care of things. There is not enough silence in the world. It is never there when you need it to deaden the misery that surrounds you. And it is always there just when you need a sound.

**A/N: MWAHAHAHAHA CLIFFY! smiles innocently at her readers **

'**Wah?' laughs it might not seem like a cliffy but it is !**

**Tilllll next time and **

**REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Love you, Love you not.

Summary: "Let me show u something beautiful." He whispers. Slash HP/TRLV

Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings if ya don't know what that means, swearing, violence in, Evil! Slytherin! Harry! Self harm, a lot of agast!

Pairings: HP/TRLV

Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!

A/N: Ok, this maybe a little confusing… in Hp book number 2 instead of Ginny getting tom riddles dairy Harry gets it, and then Dumbledore saves Harry and destroys the dairy. Umm yea so please tell me what you think!

Chapter 6:

It's storming outside, the deafening thunder

Is a contrast to the quiet roaring inside of me,

I look into a mirror

And the mirror shatters.

The pieces fly into my eyes and I shut them

I shall behold myself for all eternity.

For my reflection is not tainted by yours, and your eyes

Do not behold what I appear, only as I am.

I do not know what you are.

But I shall find you out.

That is my purpose that you shall not steal from me.

By Harry Potter-

TMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJP

Top of Form

It was dark. Poison would have burned through Tom's veins, if he had possessed any. Instead, the fierce agony of it tore through his very existence, and he could not halt that. He would not have wanted to- he had spent so much of himself into ensuring that he would continue to be, throughout the ages that passed so slowly. The thought of revenge, the thought of success and of glory, mingled with Harry's grief- that kept Tom going.

Tom would not have wanted to forget Harry...the Boy's whose fault it was that he was like this. A deplorable thing, only energy, and that Tom did not have much of. Negative energy.

Tom would think of The-Boy-Who-Lived and his psyche would be thrown into the depths of pain. Oh, the thought of Harry was torture. Tom's mind lingered only on the boy, Harry's words, his face, the soul that Tom had fed upon, preying on Harry as though a vampire.

He had controlled over Harry, yes, the boy had been his pet, his toy, plaything, his little doll. Tom had never meant for Harry to control him.

Tom doubted if he knew it. How could Harry know it? It would have been terrible if he had realised what power he had.

Harry had never wanted power. Maybe that's what drew Tom towards him in the first place.

And Tom was afraid of Harry finding him out.

I am Lord Voldemort. I am Lord Flight-of-death. Do not defy me, Harry Potter.

No; he could not let Harry know him. Or his plans. And what Harry meant to them.

Tom had wanted to dispose of 'the chosen one', but he couldn't. He had half Harry's soul inside of him. Half Tom's soul in Harry. And the foolish Potter boy had believed him when he said that he was dying. He grew stronger while Harry grew weaker? Laughable!

Harry was not weak. He was weak at the time, but Harry would have become strong again. He would have been Tom's.

His Prince? His servant? His follower?

No.

His.

And he was Harry's.

Or he would have been.

He cursed in his mind, the venom ripping through him, the venom of his only friend he had ever had, who was dead, dead, all because of a silly little boy. He cursed that boy and tough it brought him much torment, it eased the tempest of hurt somewhere else, somewhere he didn't know he had.

He wanted to weep. Never cried before but he wanted to now.

Tears would have leaked from his eyes, if he had possessed any.

TMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJP

Top of Form

Sleep...she was sleeping again. It was so cold out. She hugged herself and looked to the sky...

She shivered again- not from the familiar chill playing along her spine, but because of the sky. It was black. Autumn leaves drifted past him.

She walked, kept walking. She didn't have a clue where she was going, but then, did she ever? Wishing she had a jacket, she continued.

There he was. The one she was looking for. Although she really didn't know why she was looking for him, he wasn't someone she usually looked for.

But she walked up and stood beside him, anyway.

He spun around sharply and stared at her.

His eyes narrowed in recognition. "You!."

She nodded her head numbly. He walked up to her and caught her chin is his hand haughtily.

"What are doing here?" he asked harshly.

She didn't answer. His face contorted in hate.

"Answer me!"

"I just came by, Riddle," she replied. He let go of her and slapped her across the face.

"You will not call me that. Do you understand?" he asked her. His voice was quiet, controlled and furious.

"Yes."

"Yes, my Lord!"

"Yes, my lord."

He calmed, satisfied, watching her with cat's eyes, lazy, observant, calculating. Waiting to pounce. "You came for a reason."

"Yes," she said. "Why?"

"That's none of your business."

"It is." She said firmly.

"None of your concern whatsoever."

"I just wanted to know-"

He cut her off, slapping her again, so hard she fell to the ground.

"Well, I'm not telling you," he spat with contempt. "Do you know what happened to me after Dumbledore, that old bastard, stabbed that diary? Do you know what I feel?"

"N-no," she whispered, her lips dry and her lower lip a bit bloody.

"This," he shouted, and he brought her towards him in a kiss.

The pain was instant and it never ceased; she writhed and squirmed against him, but he did not stop. She wondered why it had to be a kiss. The irony, bitter, bitter irony of it.

She felt as though her head would come spinning off her shoulders when he violently pushed her away.

It stopped and she felt relief. She had never experienced such pain- it was worse than the Cruciatus curse. She had felt that at the Dept. of Mysteries the previous year.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Is it- constant?"

He did not answer.

"Oh, Tom," she began, almost crying.

He turned on her quickly. "I told you not to call me that!" he yelled, and she stumbled backwards.

"You will not call me that! Get it now, girl?" he yelled. His voice was not so calm now.

"Yes." She choked.

"Yes, my Lord!" he demanded.

"Yes, my lord." Her voice was so timid. She could barely breathe.

She turned to go, then called back, "To-my lord?"

"What?" he snapped.

"Why?" she pleaded. He turned and held up his wand.

"I told you I wasn't going to tell you," he said intensely.

Her eyes widened in fear and she began to back away from him, shaking her head silently.

A twisted grin besmirched his once handsome, now haunted features.

"Crucio."

And although it wasn't as bad as what she had just felt, it was horrible, and she screamed and screamed as her muscles felt s though burning and she wanted, needed it to stop; she would die, gladly-

And it stopped but she did not stop begging, why why, why, why...

Right before the boy in her the room woke her up, Tom hissed menacingly into her ear:

"_Don't ask thoughtless questions, Mudblood!."_

TMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJP

Top of Form

Harry shook Hermione awake quickly. Hermione was screaming and crying and...Her lower lip was bleeding.

"What's wrong?" he asked her. She couldn't believe no one else had heard her.

"N-nothing," Hermione mumbled.

Harry's face turned to indifference. "Liar," he whispered. "You said Tom's name."

Hermione looked up at Harry, still shaking uncontrollably. "O-oh,' she managed. "Did I?"

"Yes." Harry crossed his arms. "What would you be dreaming of him for? He isn't yours!."

"No, you're right Harry." Hermione said softly, lying down again to sleep. "He's not."

_And thank god,_ she thought before falling asleep.

Harry stood beside Hermione's bedside, staring at the sleeping girl, ugly thoughts coursing through him.

_I could kill her, Harry_ thought contemptuously_. It would be so easy. One slit with the razor, right across her throat...she'd never stand a chance._

Harry suddenly froze. He had been walking towards Hermione's things, her razors! What was he doing?

He could've killed her. Harry almost did.

"Oh, gods," Harry breathed, clutching his head and sliding to the floor. Why? Why would he think like that?

_But Tom would never wanted Hermione_, he soothed himself. _Tom tried to kill Hermione, with the basilisk._

He crawled into his bed and fell asleep very quickly.

"Oh, gods," Harry murmured. He had never been there before, but he already hated the place. Black-blue sky. Cold.

"Oh, gods," he repeated, sliding to the ground and shutting his eyes against it. Black. Cold. Like Tom's diary. Like Tom's soul.

Harry could've cleansed it, he knew, he could've cleansed it.

Why didn't he?

Harry started running.

Harry knew where he was...and he knew who he would find there.

"Tom," Harry said at last.

Tom turned around, his eyes full of misery.

"Leave."

"She didn't come here, did she?"

He cleared his throat. "She interrogated me. On your behalf."

"I'm sorry about that."

He shook his head. "No reason to be."

Harry walked over to him but Tom stepped away.

"You'll never come here again." Tom said sternly, and Harry shook his head.

"How will I find you again, Tom?" Harry called.

Tom turned around calmly and hit the boy in the face. Startled, Harry fell.

"That's what you did to the mudblood," Harry cried.

Then he realised what he had said.

Tom was looking at him with an unreadable expression, then his face knotted itself into an appearance of horrible sadism.

"Then you of course realise that I see you as the same, blood traitor," and Tom walked away.

Harry crumpled and fell crying to the ground. When he looked up he saw that the landscape had dissolved. Tom would never let him back there, where they could speak as equals.

Now they would meet in Harry's nightmares.

In Harry's sleep, he was once again to fall victim to Tom. He was at Tom's mercy entirely.

And mercy he had not.

TMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJP TMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJP

Top of Form

Your image

Is burned into the back of my eyelids

I can't even begin to exorcise it

I'm weak otherwise I'd try to hide it

Your words

Are ringing mockingly through my ears

Vampiric, how you prey on my fears

And still I can see you trough my tears

With me, you're an

Obsession

Treat me like a

Possession

Reprieve, it's a

Confession

I just can't help myself

Ooh, I keep obsessing

And still you keep me guessing

I'm on my knees confessing

Cos I just can't help myself

I'm a marionette;

You keep me in control by the threads

Your voice is echoing through my head

I'm dwelling on the things that you said

I'm like a doll

Keep my on a shelf so I don't fall

I'm still lying at your feet after it all

You see, you're an

Obsession

It's demonic

Possession

Oh please, it's a

Confession

I just can't help myself

And you're the sweetest sin

I feel I'm giving in

I'll be your puppet queen

The best you've ever seen

And all I see is you

What you say must be true

I've never loved before

I only want you more

You're an

Obsession

You're an

Obsession

I just can't help myself.

**A/N: hope you like it and pleasessssssss…..**

**REVIEW!**


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Love you, Love you not.

Summary: "Let me show u something beautiful." He whispers. Slash HP/TRLV

Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings if ya don't know what that means, swearing, violence in, Evil! Slytherin! Harry! Self harm, a lot of agast!

Pairings: HP/TRLV

Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!

A/N: Ok, this maybe a little confusing… in Hp book number 2 instead of Ginny getting tom riddles dairy Harry gets it, and then Dumbledore saves Harry and destroys the dairy. Umm yea so please tell me what you think!

Chapter 7:

It was morning, and it was raining. Storming. That did not improve Harry's mood.

He dragged his broken, battered body out of the bed and walked over to the door, turning back to see Hermione.

She wasn't in bed.

And Harry's diary was gone.

Harry blanched and ran down the stairs of the house that was once Sirius' screaming, "Hermione!"

Hermione looked up at the sound and subconsciously slid the diary under the seat.

Harry came into view, looking tired and fearful, his emerald eyes widened. "Give it back," he panted, clutching at his side.

"Give what back?" Hermione asked calmly. Harry's face contorted in a rage not unlike Riddle's. The resemblance was frightening.

"You know what!" he yelled.

Remus Lupin walked in, an eyebrow raised. "What is going on?" he asked wearily.

Harry and Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Absolutely nothing," Hermione said, composed.

"Liar! Give it back!" yelled Harry again.

Hermione turned to look at him serenely. "I don't know what you're talking about," she remarked coolly.

"What is going on?" Remus repeated, now suspicious.

Hermione shrugged and began to read a book.

Harry ran down the rest of the way and said, in a controlled and shaking voice, "My diary. Where is it?" he demanded.

"What diary is this?" questioned Remus, looking at Hermione, whose face was scrawled upon with innocence.

"I think he's referring to the diary he's had for a few years," puzzled Hermione.

"Why would you want to take it?" he asked Hermione. Hermione looked up, her eyes wide and clear. "I wouldn't," she replied. "I suppose if I did, it'd be to see what it is he's been writing about. But I don't want to know any of it, he's too scary."

"Who?"

"Tom."

Remus did a double take. "Who?"

"Tom Riddle. Harry dreams about him all the time."

"Shut up!"

Hermione and Remus looked at Harry, startled. Ron and Ginny, obviously hearing the commotion, ran into the room. They stopped and stared.

"You stop talking about him!" Harry screamed. "And give it back!"

"I don't have it!" Hermione said back, her voice rising. It hurt her to deceive Harry, but deception was what he need most at that time.

"I know you do, who else would!" Harry screeched. "Give it here, you- you- you mudblood!"

"Harry!" Ginny yelled, her doe eyes large and unbelieving. Ron's jaw had dropped, and Remus, after the initial shock, strode forward and took Harry by the shoulders. "That's enough," he said briskly. Harry was surprised at his power and grace, like a wolf –oh, well, then not surprised.

It did not faze Harry.

He shoved Remus off and cried, his splashing tears onto his nightgown, "Get the hell away from me, all of you!"

He hurried away and up the stairs, and everyone stared after him.

Hermione didn't, though. Her eyes fell to the floor. _I'll be the one to save you, Harry_, she thought, the words echoing in her mind. _One way or another, I'll set you free._

_**TMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJP**_

_Dearest fucking diary, _

_He's screaming, every night in my head. He screams my name. Hermione thinks it's all nonsense, a lot of silly dreams. But they aren't dreams. They're there, in my head. Because memories don't die. They have to be forgotten. And he's still there. I just can't forget him. I wouldn't want to._

_Dearest fucking diary,_

_Ron's worried about me. He stops me every so often and I look into my best friend's tired eyes and he bites his lip and asks, "Are you okay, Har?"_

_I nod. What else would I do?_

_He frowns and presses on. "Are you sure you're okay, Harry?"_

_It always seems to irritates me, although I can't imagine why...why he can't leave me alone!_

_I was talking to Ginny about it, and how Ron is overprotective, Mrs Weasley worries to the point of tears, Bill and Charlie both visit and spend that much time lecturing and nagging me, and Ginny nodded and said "We're all worried about you. You know that, don't you? That we love you?"_

_And she smiled. Ginny smiling for the purpose of smiling is a beautiful thing to behold, like spring after and icy winter that you thought would never end. It lifts your spirit, and suddenly you can breathe in the oxygen again. She really should smile more often. that's a feeling I'd like to have more of. I'd really like it if she smiled more often._

_Dearest fucking diary, _

_Tom knows. He's worried I'll forget him for Ginny. Well, 'worried' isn't the best term. He was mad at me, so mad his voice was shaking, and he lifted his wand and whispered, "Crucio." It hurts...but it hurts even worse when he does it, because I love him._

_Oh, I love him...his porcelain face, his sea blue eyes, his cherry lips, his elegant eyebrows, his raven hair, the soft skin on his neck, his flawless, strong hands, the feel of his heartbeat when he's taken his shirt off...I love it when he touches me..even when he's hitting me._

_Which he's been doing often lately._

_Dearest fucking diary,_

_I can't believe I never got it before...that Sirius is dead. He's really gone. I never understood through and through until just now the reason behind Remus's lacking gait, and his cold, unresponsive manner. He's a rosebud surviving the spring frost whose sun has just left. Sirius is dead. Good Gods._

_Dearest fucking diary,_

_Well, cussing at you doesn't do me any good. I'm not really angry, I'm ecstatic._

_I really do love it when Tom touches me...I love his hands. So strong. So experienced. Curious. Fearless. Relentless._

_When I first found the diary, he never touched me like that. I was young and too innocent, much too innocent. He never—kissed me with such ardor. I could feel him, his passion, his fury, everything that makes him, well, Tom._

_But then, fucking diary, he told me how he kissed Hermione and I was lucky he didn't kiss me like that. He said he brought her pain and yet she still cared. She still worried._

_He makes it sound as though she worried for me. I know that she's really worried for him. How dare she! He's mine. I'm his. If he wanted her, he wouldn't have had me set the basilisk on her._

_If she bloody comes near him again, I'll rip her throat out._

_**TMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJP**_

Hermione took a deep breath, in turmoil. She wanted to drop that diary but she knew she had to continue. Holding back tears and fighting a scream, she looked to the pages once more- but she was cut off.

"You said you didn't have it."

She spun around and halted. How had Lupin managed to come into the room, stand so close to her...? She could have kissed him if she'd wanted to.

She considered it...wait! What was she thinking?

Remus sighed and sat beside her. Her heart beat faster as the loveseat moved with his added weight. His added weight...

Hermione's eyes darted nervously in their sockets. Her head lifted slightly and her gaze lightly grazed his before falling quickly to the small book in her hands.

"Why did you lie earlier?"

Hermione was still and silent as a stone statue in the depths of winter.

He sighed and moved closer to her, taking her shoulders in his hands. Hermione's thoughts brought forth a phrase of Harry's...

_I love his hands. So strong. So experienced. Curious. Fearless. Relentless._

In his gentle way he forced her eyes to meet his.

"Hermione," he began, in his deep voice. It echoed through her chest and her heart throbbed.

Why? she wondered. Is it because...? He shouldn't be doing this to me!

"Y-yes?" she asked, her voice below a whisper.

"I know you're worried," he said quietly. "We all are. But in trying to save Harry from the flood, I fear the current will sweep you in."

She wanted to collapse against his chest and sob, clutching at his shirt in desperation. But she didn't dear tempt herself.

"He sometimes screams," Hermione choked on her tears.

"Sirius used to sometimes cry in his sleep," Remus said softly. Hermione's vision blurred; she threw herself into his arms howling and he comforted her as best he could.

Looking up into his eyes, she realised that there was no denying that she couldn't save Harry.

With a jolt she realised there was no denying her feelings for Re-Lupin, either.

Well, even if it was futile, she'd help Harry. She'd have to help.

Even if it was inevitable, she'd keep herself from falling in love with Lupin. She mentally kept herself from nipping at his neck.

Well, in either case, she'd try.

_**TMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJP**_

I gave you my heart

_Tom, I loved you_

But you didn't want that, did you?

_You only wanted power; it's all you ever wanted._

You threw it back into my face

_All I ever wanted was to love you._

And it shattered.

_It's your entire fault I'm ruined._

Shards, little pieces- starry

_Like the sky at midnight in the cold, cold winter..._

Diamond dust filled with moonlight, refracting, reflecting-

_Light bends as you bend truth._

From the clumsy stitches holding my head onto my elegant neck I pick a loose thread and pull it out.

_Don't fear, I lost my head ages ago._

Look the needle in the eye and slip it through tenderly.

_The tenderness you should have showed me- you said you loved me!_

I attempt to sew my pieces back together

_My fingers fail; they aren't yours._

Patch it, polish it-

_Make it shine as bright as my glimmering, shimmering tears._

But the silver tip pierces my finger's flesh

_That's your doing, isn't it?_

A single crimson drop of blood,

_You like blood far too much to be sane, Tom._

My blood, purest blood, pure as my intentions and now tainted

_You always liked my pure blood. Is it pure as it is or is it all in your head?_

Poisoned by the venom of betrayal-

_I didn't betray the basilisk; you should know that by now._

Your treachery

_But you betrayed me, didn't you?_

Soaks the lace handkerchief scarlet.

_I was pure white, not pure crimson, not my blood, but my soul, and you stained it. My imbrued hands curse your carelessness._

You're my needle, my bane, you dwell within my veins.

_And within my head and my dreams and my diary and my pen..._

Like the gathering of honey on a serpents' fang,

_Like your cotton candy cottonmouth tongue, you spew lies like a sick child and sick you are, Tom...you're so sick...my Lucifer, fallen angel cast to hell, my Lord of the Flies, Lord Flight-from-Death..._

My secrets swell, then spill.

You promised, swore to God alone with him and I as witness, one

_God damn you. You're damned, the King of the Damned. I'm Prince of the Damned, it never ends..._

On a hill in a lightning storm the thunder beckoning

_Don't tempt God-- you tempt me enough already._

That you wouldn't, but you have.

_How could you do it, love?_

And I see now my heart was not the only thing for you to break.

_Promises, my spirit, my soul, my mirror- take your pick. I don't much care anymore._

I trusted you and now I am not sure-

_I hate you. I love you. I curse you and I need you. Damn you and damn me with you. This isn't Hell; this is Purgatory. Light the white candles, Hermione; pray for our souls._

A true love does not make one stare into a black mirror of one's own demise

_I've died...Hermione hangs black silk over the mirrors for Sirius, she shall do it for me. A black mirror. a white mirror. All mirrors show me your face. Do they show you mine?_

And in still doubt.

_Maybe we should think about this first--_

Disperse and leave me in peace; for you have failed.

_And I have failed with you. Wait for me! Wherever you go, I must follow, for I am bound to you. Us together. Inseparable. Oroboros. Jormung and, eating his tail, the serpent. Loki's son. Loki is you, Tom...he caused the destruction of all Middle Earth. Dakaath, his loyal husband...that is me. I love you, Tom. Don't you ever leave me, damn it. Don't you ever leave_!

**A/N: ok here it is finally lmao I was being poked to death by my lovely reader Anna Tramell /eyes are wide/ she even threatened to poke me with a banana can u believe that! Haha all fun Anna /smiles and bolts for the door/ BYE and don't forget to……………..**

**REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Love you, Love you not.

Summary: "Let me show u something beautiful." He whispers. Slash HP/TRLV

Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings if ya don't know what that means, swearing, violence in, Evil! Slytherin! Harry! Self harm, a lot of agast!

Pairings: HP/TRLV

Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!

A/N: Ok, this maybe a little confusing… in Hp book number 2 instead of Ginny getting tom riddles dairy Harry gets it, and then Dumbledore saves Harry and destroys the dairy. Umm yea so please tell me what you think!

Chapter 8:

_**Harry's pov:**_

Dearest fucking diary,

Tom's eyes are blue. Blue like the ocean. They're deep as a sea, too...Tom's eyes are a sea...

They pull me under and I sink, but his hands catch me—

_Strong, powerful hands. Long fingers, calloused fingertips, probing, searching, questing...gently pressing into my flesh, electrifying—_

--catch me and touch me, guide me. He leads me down to our underwater stage and softly kisses me—

_His mouth finds mine and he forces my lips apart. I only try to keep them together because he likes defeating me; false defeat, it pleasures him. A challenge; I present an easy challenge and how he rewards me! I'd never want him to not succeed, though...I like the taste of him, like sugar and cigarettes, so bitter, so sweet..._

--kisses me. When we break away, I blush and he laughs gaily and slips his arms around my waist. We skip into the hall and I look up at him, mouth in a perfect 'o' of surprise but he's already gone, laughing, and the sound doesn't seem so sweet anymore---

_Soft kisses on my neck, near my fluttering pulse, but now his mouth opens slightly and I feel his teeth, hard against my skin, and pain, again and again- he laughs and his hands reach up and run through my hair, then tug at it. My body twists in terror and he straddles me, still laughing cruelly—_

--I feel the familiar tug of strings on my hands and I'm jerked out of place, dancing, skipping, my head lolling without support grotesquely, led by an invisible, inaudible force...

Oh, no. Ha. No, I can see him all right, hear him. Look at his hands tilt and pull the braces, watch him deftly manoeuvre that threads so that I'm sent twirling on my delicate shoes. Listen to him laugh at me, can't you hear him saying "Harry darling, do you like this? Do you like it, do you?" My wooden jaw drops and he grins when I am unable to speak.

Then, with a flourish he pulls the braces into the air and the nails slide out of my hands. I trip on my toe and crumple to the ground.

Holding my hand up to the filtered light, I can see the holes from where the nails once were. They have stopped bleeding. I am still inspecting them when he takes my hands and pulls me to my feet.

"Are these real?" he asks me. I nod, speechless, and he narrows his eyes. "They could be illusions."

I shrug. They don't hurt.

His face contorts into his Flight-from-Death, sardonic smile. "Tell me," he begins, "does this hurt?"

And he slides his thumbnail into the cut and teases the skin. I cry out and he says, "They're real."

"Damn it, Riddle, that bloody well hurts!" I protest, and he glances at the palm of my hand and says with mild interest, "It's bleeding again."

"I wonder why," I grumble, and he lifts the palm up to his mouth and laps up the blood like a cat. I am fascinated. Then he kisses me. I can taste blood, my blood, on his lips.

He seizes my wrists with a sudden change of mood and drags me into a room. There is a canopy bed with sheets of black silk and he throws me on and he kisses me again, his breathe is hot, and I'm gasping for air but Tom does not believe in me breathing in anything but him...

_He should ask before he touches me like that...he should warn me...he should be aware of how it hurts. Or maybe he is and I have mistaken his passion or sadism yet again. Ribbons and lace tangled around my ankles how it binds and how I'm bound, how I desire so much to see the golden Sun once more..._

He unzips my jeans with his teeth and drags my favourite denim jeans down to my ankles with them and tosses them to the floor. He rips my red top to shreds in frenzied fire, his fingers scald my skin as the knowledge of my sin boils out of my mind and when he pushes me down my eyes roll into the back of my head as the soul, the spirit of innocence smokes and writhes and evaporates to be gone from myself...that which is cherished shall lie within no more.

A young boy raped like a barren field and used, left battered, but that would be pain, and although this is against my will I am not harmed...I am burning away but his anesthetic of sheer fancy lies over my eyes and do I see the craving, simply physical? You fool me into thinking you need me...deception your name and yet I forget it for the while...

Then I spiral up from the foaming frothy sea, seeing the lights below I wish to turn back to you, but I don't dare...

When I reached the sand I cough, licking the salt from my wounds I wait, for healing never comes easily. Like a god you rise from the ocean and stride towards me and grasp my fingers and send me flying in an overwhelming kiss once more...I left far too soon...

This night will not end well. It never does.

_And your hands are cold now, when I remember them warmly and your nails hurt, but I don't protest, I am foolish. I let you take what is mine and therefore what is yours and it's a devil dance in the dark and your lips taste of cigarettes and mine of brine and together we sail through the sky around the new moon and plummet, or feathers disintegrating, into the depths..._

_This night will not end well. It never does._

I felt myself falling...

_**TMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJP**_

_**Tom's pov:**_

I fall so often now, it doesn't seem as though I'd be a Dark Lord, does it? But it's sort of funny how the stronger you get, the more pronounced your weaknesses become. Actually that's not funny. That's sick. But I never said I thought there was a difference. I'm morbid like that.

Harry catches me when I fall. I wish he wouldn't. It' terribly irritating. I don't like him reaching out and touching my hands. Well, I like the feel of his hands all right- on my back, my shoulders, my chest- but not like some sweet angel. I don't like thinking of him as an angel. A fallen angel, that's more like it. One cast from heaven to lie in my arms in chains. I like that idea. I have always liked it.

He's weak. But that makes his strengths, though subtle, more potent. Harry doesn't have a damn clue about how strong he is. I like to pretend I have control over him. Cat and mouse games I play with yours truly. Raping him is just a way to reassure myself.

But what if he decides he doesn't need me...what then? I'm falling, and he's my safety net. What if he wasn't there?

_**TMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJPTMRHJP**_

_Fallen angel, valentine_

_You're on a leash, you're chained, you're mine_

_Take you, kiss away your tears_

_You'll confirm my greatest fears_

_You're one thing I will not lose_

_But I don't know how to choose_

_Between what I am and what I need_

_I need to breathe, I need to bleed_

_I am the Dark Lord, Flight-from-Death_

_Yet I need you like my next breath._

A/N: Anna I have now update its ur turn /grins cheeky/ hehe please……

REVIEW!


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Love you, Love you not.

Summary: "Let me show u something beautiful." He whispers. Slash HP/TRLV

Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings if ya don't know what that means, swearing, violence in, Evil! Slytherin! Harry! Self harm, a lot of agast!

Pairings: HP/TRLV

Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!

A/N: Ok, this maybe a little confusing… in Hp book number 2 instead of Ginny getting tom riddles dairy Harry gets it, and then Dumbledore saves Harry and destroys the dairy. Umm yea so please tell me what you think!

Chapter 9:

_**Tom Riddle/Voldemort's POV:**_

I have controlled every aspect of my life carefully. I have controlled countless of others. I swore long ago that I would have only one law, one Lord: myself. Then Harry came through every defence and tore my walls down and ruled over everything, whether he knew it or not.

I'll never forget that time in the Chamber...Harry sat beside my throne like an attendant and laid his head in my lap. I smirked and glanced down at him. My little kitten. If he'd been any other boy...if he hadn't been so young...I might've forced his black messy head between my legs just to see him shamed.

Innocence knows no shame; it's pathetic. Evil shows no shame...but I have _felt_ shame. I felt shame when I slid my hand in the opening of Harry's pants, and heard his confusion when he asked, "Why are you doing this?"

I felt shame when I ignored his protests in the minutes that followed. I shut my eyes against the disgrace when he hooked his arms around my neck and screamed in pain, and bit my lip against it when he cried out his pleasure.

I suppose after that first time I could've not touched him again, if he had never tempted me. But after that, he wanted more. He'd come to me late at night and kiss me, and put himself closer to me, and beg me, "Please, just once more." And always I put myself through another night that makes my senses simply die of ecstasy and makes my mind die of horror in my mental torment. He is so young...who am I to take so much from him?

Some lovers, decent lovers, leave those they love just so that they can watch them live happy, free lives...but I can't bear the thought of his in peace and I in pain, I just burn up with jealousy.

Not long ago Harry came to me, but he didn't want his body to be my temple for that night, my sacred cathedral to pray in, to dwell in. And I agreed, I felt relief. He sat beside me like a kitten and laid his head in my lap. My thoughts were forced back to that night when I would not take advantage of him like that. He was far too pure...

But no more. Even if I did agree with him, part of my mind tingled as an ugly grin crossed my face and I made him put his head down, and I laughed at his tears as he struggled and objected but I made him go through with it anyway, and I enjoyed every moment of it, even when I hated it and myself for doing it to him. Afterwards, I let him fall to the ground weeping. How I had used him. How I abused Harry, made him struggle and lose to me. I kicked him maliciously and said, "Silly boy, all you are to me now is a whore."

I know it hurt him, but at this point I don't much care.

Other times I go to him, shaking inside and lost. It's then that I'm not the Dark Lord, I'm Tom Riddle; poor Tom Riddle. Parentless, abandoned. I need him then as we can comfort each other. He's startled, but he lets me put my head against his shoulder and cry. Really, I cry. I know how. He hushes me and soothes me, stroking my hair, even when my tears soak his second hand shirt.

He likes it when my tears fall into his cupped hands. We look down at them and I don't understand how it is that he likes them so much.

"They're beautiful," he'll whisper, and kiss the rest of them off my face. I guess that's the way it is; we're desperate for things we find in the other.

For Harry, it's my shining tears.

For me, it's his pure blood.

I'm starving for blood like that. I'd kill for it. Sell my soul for it. Maybe die, if that's what it takes. I guess I'm just that desperate.

_** TMRHJPTMRHJP**_

One night you will die

That is not tonight

You won't see the day

But that's not now, I pray

That's not now I pray.

_** TMRHJPTMRHJP**_

**_:Hermione's POV:_**

When you gamble with the devil, you lose. What you lose, I don't know. Your life? Maybe. Your virginity? Perhaps. Your soul? That sounds more like it.

When you step into a circle of toadstools and dance with the faeries, it's said that you'll be stuck there till dawn.

I tried to save Harry from Tom Riddle...I tried to stop him from dancing with the Devil.

In doing so I fear I shall bring about Harry's ruin.

I can just picture it now; the Prince of Darkness, of Night and the New Moon, polished black shoes and black tuxedo, his hair blown into his eyes, his gaze downcast and his milk-white face unreadable. In his hands, a single white rose. He'd twiddle it like a baton in his fingertips, managing never to prick his fingers on the thorns.

Then the Prince of light with his Full Moon complexion will hurry in, his tuxedo barely on and urge me to help him. "Hurry!", he'll say.

My fingers will fumble as I button up the silk top. He'll stand in front of a mirror and I behind him shall see his reflection and mine, pale as well.

He'll spin around in all his glory. I'll take out a poisoned comb and pick carefully through his midnight black hair.

He'll slip into his black polished shoes and run out breathlessly, eager to join _him_ and transform from Late Autumn to Winter. Harry used to love late autumn, I 'll think mournfully, but now he rushes to greet Tom. How I hate Tom for doing this to him.

"Wait," I'll call, and pick up a black rose from the table. Before he takes it and places it in his hair, I've pricked my finger on the thorn. How he manages to not pierce his skin, I'll never know. The black rose, he holds, is Tom, and only he may hold him without pain, I suppose.

He'll rush out and I'll follow.

Harry will leap into Tom's arms and he'll clasp Harry's fingers with his left hand, his right dropping the rose and brushing Harry's messy hair out of his eyes. The rose becomes untangled from his hair and falls beside Tom's and his hand will come to rest lightly on Harry's waist. The fingers on Harry's left hand will run through Tom's hair and settle on his neck, and Tom will nod at me coldly to start the music.

Picking up my skirt I'll quickly run to the roses and pick them up. At my touch they transform into a viola and a bow- the black one is the bow and the white one, representing Harry, is the white rose, Harry. None of those thorns touched me. I smiled briefly, knowing Harry will still loved me, for he would not harm me. Naturally, Harry would make the music on Tom's commands, like the viola and bow. I lift them and play- but roses don't lose their thorns and my finger's clutching the bow are soon bleeding. I look at Tom, who looks away, towards Harry. He does not forgive.

Tom and Harry are dancing to the sickly sweet music I create. Clouds and mist and sparkles surround the fair crescent moon against the lush black crushed velvet sky.

When the soft light of the moon illuminates Tom's eyes, there are unshed tears in them. I almost drop the roses in shock. Harry's tears slide down his face freely, and suddenly Tom kneels on one knee in front of him. The clouds part and light falls on the pair of them as I watch in envy from my place in the shadows, unnoticed.

Tom extracts a black silk scarf from his jacket and waves it in front of his hand, pulling from the air a diamond ring, twinkling, glittering, reflected in Harry's hopeful eyes.

Tom will put it on Harry's finger and I stare at him in fear. But-no, Harry!- he accepts, holding his hand up before his face, staring at it in awe.

Then I'll know to play a lilting, happy tune so that they can dance quickly around and around and beat a circle into the grass like the children of night that they are. And I will open my mouth, my voice gone, and I will reach for Harry, helpless as my hands go through him. I can picture myself in my minds' eyes...all that they can hear is my music, so I must keep playing. I will stand. I will see the end before it comes. I will alone survive it as Harry falls. And I will do nothing.

_Oh, Harry...forgive me!_


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Love you, Love you not.

Summary: "Let me show u something beautiful." He whispers. Slash HP/TRLV

Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings if ya don't know what that means, swearing, violence in, Evil! Slytherin! Harry! Self harm, a lot of agast!

Pairings: HP/TRLV

Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!

A/N: Ok, this maybe a little confusing… in Hp book number 2 instead of Ginny getting tom riddles dairy Harry gets it, and then Dumbledore saves Harry and destroys the dairy. Umm yea so please tell me what you think!

Chapter 10:

Harry's POV:

"Harry. Harry, wake up, it's just a dream!"

Hermione's voice, then. Hermione's hands on my shoulders shaking me awake.

"What?" I asked, cracking my eyes open.

Tears were streaming down her face. I was startled by it. "Hermione, what's wrong?" I cried. She looked away, holding her knuckles to her mouth, shaking her head.

"Hermione-?"

She jumped up from beside me and left the room. I stared after her, but she didn't come back, or talk to me for the rest of the day. I had just looked down at the dainty ring twinkling on my finger.

Now I lie here on my back on my bed waiting for sleep to take me, holding my hand up and squinting in the dark at the pretty little thing, twisting it around and around my finger humming a tune like a little boy who has been kept occupied so that the adults can sit alone and talk, leaving me out.

That's infuriating. I'm so very angry right now, and with that in my mind, I fall into a restless sleep. Restless, that is, because I don't exactly rest when I'm sleeping…

After yet another harrowing ordeal- and sorry if I sound bitter, or rather, I'm not sorry if I sound bitter- I finally calm down and the screaming of Tom's name ends. I look up at him, his hair lank with sweat and mine mangled and tangled around my head. The skin on my shoulders is raw from where he gripped me, and even though last night he was all grace and gentle caresses, this night he's very impulsive and reckless. Oh, doesn't it ever end? Apparently not.

"Harry," he pants, looking at me with satisfaction, then confusion. "What's wrong with you now?"

"Nothing," I mope. He rolls his eyes, which doesn't exactly shock me, since he seems to do a lot of that.

"Well, you didn't seem so sulky a moment ago," he says stubbornly, smoothing his shirt down.

"Tom, you know, that wasn't exactly easy," I grumble, looking down at the Earth. He follows my gaze and there is a silence for a while.  
"You know, that's ours," he remarks suddenly.  
"Yeah, so you say."  
"You don't sound convinced."  
"Maybe it's ours in this little mirror-world of yours," I counter, glaring at him, "but you know damn well that Dumbledore won't let you take it."

He slapped me. Wow, now that's a surprise. Not.

"We climbed up here just so you could look down at the world where we rule and pathetic muggles don't exist," he said, sullen, "and now you're talking about Dumbledore. Well, Dumbledore doesn't care for you."  
"So what? Neither do you."  
"I'm marrying you, aren't I?"

I roll my eyes back at him. Slap.

"Touch me again, Riddle, " I growl. "And I swear, I swear to God…"

He grabs my shoulders again and pushes me down against the tree's trunk, slamming me against it violently. "Have it your way," he said curtly and walked off the edge of the bough. And now the tree is gone and I'm sitting in the middle of a black- thing.

_**TMRHJPTMRHJP**_

_Whatever, Tom…have it your own way…_

_I guess you only liked me because I look so pretty decked out in jewels, hanging over my body, dripping, as I lay in a sea of molten gold and dance, come hither, and then get the hell away._

_And I spin around in a gilded bird cage, singing like a captured pretty thing of yours. Why does the caged bird sing? Not sure. Maybe it just knows that if it wants to stay alive, it has to sing for you._

_I sink to my knees in despair when my throat is hoarse, leaning against the metal bars, no comfort._

_But soon I'll feel my clipped wings pulled up and my feathers ruffled, and the caged bird will be singing again. God be damned so I can go to heaven, please…_

_**TMRHJPTMRHJP**_

Little bird, little bird, won't you fly, fly away?

Little bird, little bird, won't you fly away?

Little bird, birdie, why don't you fly away from here?

He won't let me…

I am so confused

I can't do the things I thought I used to

He wont' let me…

I'm dirty, so abused

I can't do the things that keep me from dying…

My wings are bound and broken

I'm held down, I'm pinned-

Tortured for my sins….

_So why does that crazy bird sing? Is it saving itself, or is it really happy? And how could I ever be happy when I love to fly so much….?_

**THE END!!**

**A/N:** OMG!! This is the first story I have finished omg!!


End file.
